Head Over High Heels
by Ms. Jones
Summary: Hogwarts is introduced to yet another Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, much to Snape's disgust. But, this new teacher turns the Potion Master's world upside down. Warnings: Very very OOC, i.e. nice Snape, AU 2nd yr, HAWT HAWT MARY SUE ACTION!
1. A Fleeting Meeting, A Heart Beating

31st August 1993, and the Hogwarts staff are being introduced to yet another Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, much to Severus Snape's delight. (I don't think!) However, this new teacher will turn the Potion Master's world upside down. Warnings: Slight, but intentional Mary-Sue, OOC (and how!) Snape, AU Harry's second year.

_Author's Notes: This is a fanfic I have had on the go for some time now, but I stopped it because the main love 'trest seemed like too much of a Mary-Sue (hence the warning). But since this _is_ a comedy, I see no harm in a Mary-Sue or two, especially one with a twist... ;) In any case, I hope this will be a welcome break from my other Potter-fic, _The Forbidden Corridor

_All relevant character and place names are property of JK Rowling first and foremost, and copyright of Warner Brothers. Spedena and McGinty, are mine, however. Good... good..._

Chapter One: A Fleeting Meeting, A Heart Beating...

It was Sunday before term was due to start, and deep in the Scottish countryside where no Muggle would dare venture, in what appeared to be a derelict fort, was Hogwarts, a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the Great Hall of the most prestigious wizarding school in Europe, if not the world, the teachers of the school gathered, as the sun from the enchanted ceiling, replicating the weather of what had turned out to be a late summer, beat down upon the anticipant crowd.

Finally, the long-awaited Headmaster, resplendent in mauve robes decorated with silver moons and stars, strolled in. Albus Dumbledore, a great amongst great wizards.

"Greetings, my fellow colleagues," boomed Dumbledore, as the eager chatter of friends and colleagues swapping stories about their summer vacations abruptly died down.

"As you are all sadly aware, the demise of our most recent Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor Quirrel..."

"Professor _Squirrel_," whispered Charles Spedena, the Arithmancy professor, quite audibly, to the blonde witch on his left side, teaching assistant Malandra Vector, who had returned to Hogwarts after her NEWTS, to embark on a teaching career. "I heard he choked on his own nuts..." her mentor joked to her.

A few of the people close to Spedena laughed at this off-colour joke; even Dumbledore raised a smile. However, Spedena's cheeky glance was met with a dangerously reproachful glare from the Potions master, Severus Snape.

"Yes, that will do, Chuck," Dumbledore said lightly, narrowly avoiding laughing himself. "In any case, there is now a vacancy for the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts."

A few eyes, especially those of the more established teachers, including the formidable yet fair Professor McGonagall, and the tiny Charms teacher, Professor Flitwick, glanced over at the Potions Master, as they knew for the thirteen years he had been teaching at Hogwarts, his beady black eyes had been on the very job there was an opening for.

Snape's usually pale, sallow cheeks went slightly pink as he dared to hope. Was Dumbledore about to grant him his dearest wish... to be able to meddle, once again, with Dark Magic?

"Filling the position," Dumbledore continued, as Snape crossed his long, bony fingers under his robes, "will be a professor who has just graduated from Durmstrang Institut's Teaching College."

Snape's pallid face fell, and his fingers uncrossed and reverted into tight fists. So, some young buck with a few months' involvement was considered more suited to the Defence Against the Dark Arts teaching position than his more... first-hand experience. _Well,_ thought Snape. _This young whipper-snapper, whomever he may be, he's certainly not on my Christmas Card list..._

"Please let me introduce," Dumbledore announced grandly, "our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Miss Maryann McGinty."

There was a babble of astonishment from the staff, who were clearly surprised. There hadn't been a female DADA teacher in Howarts since... well, ever.

Snape snarled angrily. _Beaten to his dream job by a woman!_ he thought, stuck in his old-fashioned ways. Feeling emasculated, he scowled as the doors slowly opened. So she was a _Miss, _indeed. Probably ugly and hence unmarried. _But wait, _he thought, as the doors opened wider. Didn't Dumbledore say she had just graduated from Durmstrang Teaching College? Then unless she was a mature student (another possibility), she could be...

In walked a pretty, petite witch, flowing chestnut brown hair, like the best chocolate, cascading down her perfectly angled shoulders and straight back, and mysterious bangs hanging in her bright hazel eyes, scarlet robes spilling round her beautiful figure like life's blood.

Quite a few of the gentlemen teachers, such as Spedena, stared transfixed at the beautiful maiden who was passing before them. Even Snape, jealous as he was, couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

After receiving a congratulatory kiss from Dumbledore ("How come I didn't get that when _I _joined?" complained the Herbology teacher, Professor Sprout), Maryann cast her eyes about the crowd of mostly dumbfounded men and mainly envious women, and cleared her throat. She turned her head briefly to the Headmaster and nodded. "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," she said in an almost musical voice, like the spring.

An unusual sensation sprung in Snape's stomach. He groaned a little. It had been a mistake to order that Muggle delicacy, pizza, as a last-night-at-Spinner's End 'treat'. Nevertheless, he looked at the undeniably pretty girl, who could be no older than twenty-four, and decided to listen to what she had to say.

"Thank you everyone, for your kind welcome," she said, with a dazzling smile, showing off perfectly pearly white teeth. "I am honoured to be a part of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, working alongside such talented and noble witches and wizards, as Albus Dumbledore, the greatest sorcerer of recent times, and Minerva McGonagall, the great Transfiguration artist." She looked earnestly at the flattered Head of Gryffindor house. "I read about your work, Ma'am. It is most fascinating."

McGonagall smiled as Maryann continued her speech. "And I am most looking forward to meeting and getting to know..." Here her beautiful, now oddly blue-hued eyes, met Snape's large dull black ones, and she paused, a noticeable flush rising in her coral-tinged cheeks. She cleared her delicate throat once again, and went on "...the rest of you. I am honoured..."

Snape felt a nudge in his ribs. "Did you dig that, Sevvy?" Spedena hissed in his annoying Anglo-Canadian accent. Snape wished he would make up his bloody mind and be one or the other.

"What?" Snape hissed grudgingly through clenched teeth He was so angry, he felt as though his jaws had been stuck together by Honeyduke's Tastiest Trick Toffee.

Spedena smirked cockily. "Maryann," he said proudly. "She was _totally _giving me the eye." He gave Snape a knowing wink. "I think I'm in there."

The fluttering sensation that Snape had taken for sickness began to burn intensely. Snape moaned. "I can't take this," he muttered, beginning to shuffle through the crowd, to the exit. Little did he know, watching his retreat most intently of all, was Maryann McGinty.

By the time Snape had reached the bathroom, the sick feeling had subsided, but somehow, he didn't feel like returning to the Great Hall, however much he wanted once again to look upon Maryann's beauty. Instead he looked at himself in the full-length mirror. How, looking like this, sallow-skinned and greasy-haired, would he ever snag as much as a date, with the alluring DADA teacher? He thought he saw a small whitehead forming on his forehead, so he reached to try and squeeze it.

Before he could, an apparition of Maryann appeared next to his reflection. "Maryann," he said hurriedly and nervously, "you... you must have trouble finding your way around the castle. The ladies' bathroom is across the..."

Snape was stopped in his tracks when he noticed that Maryann, or rather her image, was not wearing her blood-red robes, rather... a white gown. "Huh?" he said stupidly, "what's with the fancy clothes, Maryann...?" He finally turned around to face the lovely new professor, but instead found himself staring at...

"Charles," he sighed. "What are you doing here?"

Spedena shrugged. "I dunno," he said. "Came to see if you were all right." He looked genuinely concerned, though Snape didn't care. "You left in rather a hurry."

"I... I'm fine," Snape stammered, angry at his being interrupted, by Spedena, of all people.

Spedena frowned. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Because I'm sure I heard you talking to yourself..." He paused and pretended to think. "No... not yourself... to Maryann."

"Well, certainly," Snape said gruffly. "I saw her reflection behind me and thought it only polite to direct her to the right bathroom." He smiled, satisfied. "She must have taken my advice, because she's gone..."

"Uhh, Severus," Spedena interrupted, a concerned tone touching his voice. "I followed ya right in here, and there was certainly no Maryann. Unless... heey!" A delighted expression crossed his face as he unceremoniously shoved Snape out of the way to look in the mirror himself. "This is only the Mirror of Erised," he smiled. "And if you could see what I could see, you'd be happy too!" He grinned and spaced out a little as he drank in the image. Whatever it was, Snape didn't want to know.

"But... what does that mean?" Snape thought aloud, meaning Spedena to help him a little. "How come I saw Maryann in the mirror? And besides, I thought Albus was going to get rid of this thing, to prevent _certain students _sneaking around the castle after hours." He thought of that trouble-making Potter boy, and how he was exactly like his proud, arrogant, smart-ass bully of a father.

Spedena tore himself away from his obvious fantasy, and looked at Snape as if he were an idiot. "Duh!" he sighed. "The Mirror of Erised shows you your heart's deepest and darkest, most valued desire."

"I know that," Snape snarled, "but..."

"Personally I thought you'd see yourself strangling Potter," Spedena remarked. Snape, to his shame, almost nodded. "Or drowning Ron Weasly in a mess of his own making... in a _cauldron_ of course!" Spedena quickly added, realising his quip could be taken in many ways. "Or perhaps inviting that Granger girl for... detention..." He winked and nodded his head dimly. "Huh? Huh?"

"_Shut up_!" Snape hissed angrily, "and help me figure out why I saw Maryann in the mirror, in a white dress, when I don't even _like_ her!"

Spedena's jaw dropped and his big, pretty eyes widened. "A white dress!" he spluttered. "This just gets better and better; you've seen this chick once and you want to marry her?" He began to shake with silent laughter and his eyes began to water. "Oh, Merlin's _beard_! Thank goodness I'm in the damn _bathroom_!" He ran hastily to a cubicle.

Not wishing to hear from Spedena's waterworks, Snape hastily stepped out of the bathroom, and dashed to the Teacher's Lounge, hoping he wouldn't run into Maryann.


	2. Revelations

_Author's Notes: Aha! I finally found this in an old green folder, amongst lesser stories, which I shan't bore you with. -- Also, I apologise in advance for the lame, non-Latin incantations, though admit it, they are funnier._

_All relevant character and place names are property of JK Rowling first and foremost, and copyright of Warner Brothers. Chuck and Maryann, though, belong to me..._

Chapter Two: Revelations

Maryann flicked her beautiful, long, silky, chestnut brown hair out of her eyes, which were this time violet, probably owing to her tiredness due to the hectic nature of the day, as she followed Madam Pomfrey to the sick bay; down the dark corridor towards the simply furnished, and thankfully deserted, hospital wing.

The Hogwarts Healer finally stopped and indicated a cot in a rather cosy corner of the otherwise dank hall. "Dumbledore sends his most sincere apologies, Miss McGinty," she sighed, "but he insists that a proper chamber in the Teachers' Wing shall be magicked up for you as soon as possible."

Maryann nodded, grateful she wouldn't have to face any of the staff in her tired state, least of all _him, _the tall, black-haired, interesting looking gentleman whose name she did not yet know, with the dreamy eyes. "Thank you," she said. "Please send Professor Dumbledore my highest regards."

Madam Pomfrey paused paused. "I do need to just finish up in here for fifteen minutes," she admitted, a little embarrassed to be disturbing the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. "Would that be all right?"

"That should be fine," Maryann answered, taking out her wand. Waiting until the nurse's back was turned, she waved her wand around herself. "_Reddifobedd,_" she incanted softly, soon appearing in little more than a short blue baby-doll nightie which left little to the imagination, and surprisingly sexy for a Hogwarts teacher, even one as young as Maryann. Before Madam Pomfrey could turn back towards her, she bundled herself into the tiny bed, underneath the crisp, clean sheets, a little flustered at her sense of nightwear, not entirely sure the kindly medic would approve.

"If you don't mind my saying so," Madam Pomfry said conversationally, as she pottered in a medicine cabinet, arranging bottles of _Bogie-Begone, _a kind of wizard cold and flu remedy which worked on runny noses in little under five seconds – but left your ears pouring steam for anything up to four hours afterwards – in date order. "I'm sure you had your eye on someone in the Great Hall."

Maryann blushed. It was true. Though she felt it unbecoming for a lady, especially one with such a prestigious position such as hers, to have such feelings, but yes, Madam Pomfrey was right; she had indeed spotted someone.

Someone, she thought, who could change her lonely life.

"Yeah," she sighed dreamily. "How can you tell?"

Madam Pomfrey laughed heartily. "Oh, I can always tell with these things," she answered jovially. "I'll bet it was the Arithmancy teacher, Professor Spedena," she guessed. "Though if it is, I'd be quick; this is his last year before he takes up a teaching position at Saint Paracelcus' College of Magic back in Canada where he's from." She sighed dreamily and fluttered her eyelashes, picking up rolls of BoneFixers, and placing them in the same cupboard as the cold remedies."If I were twenty years younger..."

Tuning red, Maryann grabbed a pillow, noticing some deep indents which looked like teeth marks on it. _Someone must have had a painful treatment, _she thought idly, paying the marks little mind. "Not exactly," she admitted. In actual fact, Maryann had noticed him right off, with his bright sparkling brown eyes and mischievous grin – she had originally thought him to be a prefect, or the Head Boy or something. No, he wasn't the one she was thinking of.

Madam Pomfrey giggled, an odd thought crossing her mind. "Surely it wasn't Professor Packer," she snickered, referring to the geeky, slightly overweight Ancient Runes teacher, with a terrible overbite, an unfashionable side parting, and, quite possibly, terrible body odour...

Even Maryann found this notion laughable, though she felt a little bit guilty in doing so. "No!" she exclaimed. "Not my type at all!"

Madam Pomfrey's brow furrowed curiously. "then... _who _is your type?" she ventured.

"You really want to know?" asked Maryann. "Because it's really weird... surely he's not the man you'd expect me to like... I don't even know his name, or even what he teaches."

"Well dear," offered Madam Pomfrey. "If you describe him to me, I'll perhaps be able to tell you.

"Okay," said Maryann, a little nervous. She sat up, being careful to keep her sexy nightie out of the Healer's sight. "He was... kinda tall... shiny black hair... really nice dark eyes... black robes... kinda pale..." As she went on describing the object of her affection her nerves got worse and worse, thus she became a bit more vague, as she noticed the expression on Madam Pomfrey's face change from curiosity to a kind of shock, to wild amusement. Her face turned as red as Maryann's and she covered her mouth with both hands, trying to suppress her laughter. "You're kidding me," she said, gasping for breath in between fits of giggles. "Severus Snape... the Potions master...no!"

"Yes," Maryann corrected softly, abashed. "I think he's absolutely gorgeous!" She smiled, more to herself than Madam Pomfrey, who shook her head. Considering Maryann's pretty, almost angelic face, she was unable to comprehend how Maryann could feel attracted to someone as... ugly and permanently grumpy as Severus Snape. No, this couldn't be right, she thought, trying to think of another male teacher with dark hair,who happened to be wearing dark robes that day. When she could think of no-one else (Spedena had been wearing navy robes, but Maryann had already confirmed he was not the man she had her eye on), she approached Maryann's bedside, her confused thoughts rushing around her brain, making her feel like she had overdosed on Bogie Begone. "Maryann, honey," she coaxed. "You don't know what he's like."

Maryann shrugged. "He looks like he needs a bit of cheering up..." she started, before an errant, unpleasant thought crossed her mind. "He's not married, is he?"

"Heavens, no!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, laughing humourlessly. "I must say he's not the marrying kind."

Maryann gave Madam Pomfrey a conerned look. "Then he's..."

"He finds it impossible to suffer _any _other members of the human race," the exasperated Healer explained hastily. "Even most of the staff seem to hate him."

Maryann's eyes widened. _How could that be?_ she wondered. "Really?" she asked, wanting her question answered.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Never seen him hold a conversation for more than ten seconds," she explained. "Except with Dumbledore, of course. I tell you, that old coot is tolerant of everyone, regardless of their background." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. She straightened up. "Anyway," she gasped in her usual peppy, bossy tone. "Keep a smart head on your shoulders, and stay away from old Snape."

"Oh," said Maryann, disappointed, absently stroking the pillow she held.

Noticing the teeth-marks in the pillow made the Healer smile ironically, as it reminded her of her last encounter with Snape last year, when Fluffy, Hagrid the gamekeeper's pet dog who was helping to guard the Philosopher's Stone, had bitten Snape's leg. She casually mentioned this to Maryann.

"Really?" Maryann's tired mauve eyes appeared interested again. "What happened?"

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes. "He was a sorry state, dearie," she sighed. "Wouldn't stop moaning and complaining... he nearly chewed that very Extra Soft Pillow you've got there in a fit of agony..." She pointed at the cushion Maryann was clutching and rolled her eyes melodramatically. "Putting it on, of course" she finished.

Maryann sounded astonished, hardly bearing to think about the lovely Severus in pain. "I never had him down as a pillow-biter," she quipped.

Madam Pomfrey chortled, getting the joke. "Neither did I," she answered, amused. "Anyway, I'll let you get some sleep, my love... It's gone midnight after all."

"Okay," Maryann said, snuggling down under the sheets. "Thanks for the... advice." She had no intention of heeding it, though.

"Anytime, m'dear, answered Madam Pomfrey, as she extinguished the oil lamps with a flick of her wand. "Goodnight."

Closing her eyes, Maryann thought about the solemn, pale, dark-haired man dressed in black, and remembered the glance he had given her. It had looked like a scowl but, thinking back, she swore she had seen a gleam of interest in those enigmatic eyes.

Maryann smiled to herself. With Severus around, she was going to enjoy her time at Hogwarts.


	3. Confessions

_Thanks for everyone for reviewing and adding, especially to 'frenchcatt' for the helpful suggestions._

_As always relevant character and place names are property of JK Rowling first and foremost, and copyright of Warner Brothers. Chuck and Maryann are all MINE!_

Chapter Three: Confessions

Professor Spedena, the good-looking Arithmancy teacher, bashed desperately on the bathroom door. "For Merlin's sake, Severus, open the goddamned door!" he growled in his deep, rich, beautiful Anglo-Canadian hybrid accent.

"Leave me alone," Snape replied, emotionless and aloof.

"Oh, come on!" Spedena argued back. "Look, if you're having stomach cramps, I know a charm that'll stop you from..."

"Shut up!" Snape barked from inside. He sighed. "I just need time to... think"

Spedena leaned on the mahogany door. "Oh, really?" He sounded intrigued. "What about?"

"It's none of your business," Snape hissed to his irritatingly handsome colleague.

Spedena sighed. "Okay, fine," he said tiredly, slipping off his shoes. "Here I am, opening up to you... and you choose to ignore me, sulk in a bathroom, and let your life pass you by." He whipped out his wand. "Don't worry about me, I'm sure Dumbledore will lend me his chamberpot." He pointed his wand at his shoes and whispered, "_Locomotor brogues_" to them and watched them begin to march down the corridor. He followed them a little way, calling, "Goodnight, Severus," before sneakily returning to the bathroom door. Snape had been acting very strangely all day; one or two of his colleagues had even caught him with the ghost of a smile on his face. So keen Spedena was to know what was amiss, he ran the risk of angering Snape greatly by snooping around behind his back. Seeing his shoes were turning the corner, out of earshot, Spedena aimed his wand at them, whispering "_Immobulus_", praying that Snape would not hear. He never did quite get the hang of non-verbal magic.

"W-wait!" Snape called, finally opening the bathroom door, as if changing his mind. "I need your..." he shouted down the corridor before suddenly noticing that a shoeless Spedena was still waiting for him. He jumped back, startled. "Don't do that," he hissed, giving Spedena a warning look, which he ignored.

"What did you want, Severus?" Spedena asked cockily, folding his arms and tilting his head slightly to one side, grinning.

Snape sighed, slinking back into the bathroom, this time without closing the door behind him, to gaze at himself in the mirror, as he was doing before Spedena's rude interruption. This time Spedena followed him.

"Look at me," Snape said flatly. "Thirty-four, and no wife, not even a girlfriend." He shook his head mournfully. "No woman, witch or Muggle, would ever look twice at me."

"Don't say that," Spedena said optimistically, although silently agreeing with the grumpy Potions master. He was, after all, not one of the best looking gentlemen in the Hogwarts faculty. "Your – uh..." Spedena flailed for the right word "_ugliness –_ could be seen as a blessing."

Snape turned away from the mirror reflecting his pale face, and stared darkly at Spedena. "I beg your pardon?" he snarled.

"Whoa!" Spedena held up a hand, as if to defend himself from Snape's accusatory glare. "What I meant was... at least the girls don't get crushes on you." He grinned nervously. "That Hermione Granger is a total pain in the ass, I'm telling you. Always the last to leave the Great Hall, giving me longing looks, wondering when I'm gonna be her teacher... Thank Merlin I'm shipping back to Canada next year."

"And I shall miss you," Snape growled sardonically, "but there's no way I'm ever going to get a girlfriend discussing your problems." He sighed. "Or looking like this." He shook his head and returned his gaze to the mirror. "I'm a hideous wreck of a man, Charles. I mean... we're the same age, aren't we? Yet you don't look a day over twenty and I'm the bloody Elephant Man." Yes, even wizards fast approaching middle age, not-so-good-looking wizards, get image conscious. It is rare, but it happens.

Spedena tried not to laugh at Snape's reasoning. "Try not to think about it," he advised his colleague.

"That's easy for you to say, pretty boy!" Snape retorted

Spedena ignored that. "The right woman will come along, Severus," he continued casually. "Then again , if you're having a mid-life crisis, maybe you should buy a sports broom." He smiled inanely, basking in his own, unique form of wisdom.

Snape pushed his greasy hair away from his face. "You're not helping, Charles," he said, behind clenched teeth.

"Then tell me," Spedena replied cleverly. "Why are you so concerned about your looks all of a sudden?"

Snape took a breath. "You know you said the right woman will come along?" he said, more to his reflection than Spedena.

"Uh-huh?"

"That new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Snape blurted.

Professor Spedena's brain refused to cotton on. Like most of the staff, whenever Snape so much as mentioned Defence against the Dark Arts, Spedena always assumed Snape was after the job. "Okay," he sighed wearily. "What's wrong with _this _one?"

Snape got a glazed look in his eyes. He almost cracked a smile thinking of her. Sweeping into the Great Hall, dark scarlet robes flowing behind her; the way her hair tumbled forward when she bowed to Dumbledore, and the way she curled it back behind her neat, pretty ears, and her beautiful eyes... he wasn't exactly sure of the colour, he hadn't got close enough to see yet... that gorgeous smile of a movie star... Just thinking about her was heaven.

"Severus," Spedena called loudly, making Snape jump slightly. "Snap out of it!" He was smiling, as if he'd finally figured it out.

"Nothing," Snape answered lazily to his reflection. "In fact I'd say she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen since..." He tailed off, confused over his feelings.

Spedena grinned widely. "I see," he mused, finally understanding Snape's predicament. And... you're scared that because you're so god-damned ugly, she wouldn't touch you with a Nimbus 2000 broom handle? Or even a Cleansweep 300?"

"Mmm-hmm," Snape ignored the insult. Either that or he didn't hear him, as he was still gazing into the mirror, deep in thought.

"And you want my advice?" Spedena questioned.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "considering the number of women you've noisily shagged in the Teachers' Common Room at Hogwarts, then yes, Charles, I would love your advice," he said, barely attempting to hide his cynicism.

Spedena seemed pleased with himself,obviously remembering one of his noisy sex-sessions which had woken the dead. Literally; the ghosts complained about the noise all night, particularly the Bloody Baron, Slytherin's ghost, the most fearful phantom in the school.

"Basically, it's not that hard," explained Spedena as the pair stepped out of the bathroom and headed off down the corridor. "All you have to do is be yourself." He considered the Potions master for a minute. If old Snape was 'himself,' it would surely put off any woman in her right mind. "Then again," he continued, undeterred, "I've found that Love Potion works very well, too." He cleared his throat. "As long as Dumbledore doesn't find out." He winked.

"You know, Charles," Snoop said, hardly sounding impressed. "I might just do that."

"But remember," Spedena warned his colleague, "you must truly capture her heart before the potion wears off."

"I _know _that," Snape retorted, more than a little annoyed. "I am the Potions master off after all."

"D'oh!" Spedena hit his forehead with the palm of his hand, forgetting that little fact momentarily. "Then, it shouldn't be too much of a problem for you, sir."

"Thank you, Charles," Snape answered, with the confidence of a man who had never concocted, supervise, or even considered making such a potion, and since it was forbidden by Dumbledore, it had never even crossed his mind. "And at this point,. I must bid you goodnight." He strode importantly down the corridor, only pausing to point disparagingly at Spedena's ageing Hush Puppies. "Don't forget your shoes."

Finally, reaching his chamber and flopping down on his four-poster, fully clothed, he closed his eyes, too exhausted to do anything except think about beautiful Maryann. He soon fell asleep, with the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher on his mind.


End file.
